


The Sharpest Lives

by Hawkefeathers



Series: Picture Perfect [4]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blackwatch McCree, Canon-Typical Violence, Mild Gore, Past Gabriel Reyes/Jack Morrison, Pre-Explosion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2016-07-12
Packaged: 2018-07-23 12:39:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7463643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hawkefeathers/pseuds/Hawkefeathers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before the fall of Overwatch, before Talon got their hands on Gabriel Reyes, there was Jesse McCree and a mission destined to fail.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sharpest Lives

**Author's Note:**

> Finally, the McCree oneshot I promised! This is about the doomed mission that was mentioned in Chapter 6 of Picture Perfect. You don't have to read that first, however.
> 
> Special thanks to ShrupInterrupts for being my beta on this one!

_This place is too quiet._

The thought crossed McCree’s mind as he lead his men into the heart of the small Talon outpost. They had been assigned to get in, kill the skeleton crew of Talon agents guarding the place, transfer any useful intel from their hard drives, and bring the place down. Reyes seemed convinced that the job was a simple in-and-out, and normally Jesse would agree with him. But Morrison had pulled him aside as he and his men were preparing to head out. The serious expression that had seemed to be permanently affixed to his face was even more severe than usual. He didn’t think the man slept anymore.

“Jesse, be careful. Something about this doesn’t feel right.”

McCree couldn’t help the lazy grin. Jack’s mother-henning was nothing new, though he had to admit that it was a little strange to see him wandering over to the Blackwatch side of the base. “Relax, boss. We’ve done milk-runs like this before. We’ll be there and back before you can miss us.”

He didn’t expect the sudden tight grip on his arm. “I’m _serious_ , Jesse. The intel is a little too clean on this one. It feels off. If it were up to me I’d be sending you with more than just three men for backup.”

Jack’s tone made McCree frown. “If you really feel like that then why not bring it up to Reyes?” The pained expression on Jack’s face at the mention of the Blackwatch commander’s name made him regret asking. He remembered the row they’d had when Reyes had broken things off. Gabe had already been a scary presence to his men and it had only gotten worse. Jack had withdrawn further from those that cared about him, shutting them out and throwing himself into his work in a manner that bordered on obsessive. It didn’t take a genius to see how badly it had affected him.

“I tried. He...wouldn’t listen to me. Said it wasn’t my place. I could probably pull rank since I _am_ technically in charge, but…” Jack shook his head before the thought could take root, “No. I’m not going there. I trust him to know what’s best for his men. It’s the intel I don’t trust. Just be careful, okay?” 

Now as they proceeded through the empty halls Jesse was starting to see Morrison’s point. While they weren’t expecting to see many Talon troops stationed about, they hadn’t come across _anyone_ so far. There was nothing. No signs of patrols or sound of footsteps ringing in the still air. The silence was unsettling. Jesse was running point, Hunt and Ritayik on either side and Trach taking up the rear. They were cutting through the base’s small hanger in what was supposed to be a shortcut to the server room. One thought kept nagging at the back of Jesse’s mind. _Where the hell is everyone?_

In hindsight, he really should’ve listened to Jack.

\-----------------------------------------------------

McCree fought to catch his breath as he pressed his back against a stack of crates. He was out of the line of fire for now, but it wouldn’t take long for the remaining Talon agents to get to him. His own men were dead. 

Hunt had gone down first, caught completely off guard when they’d been ambushed. His death had been quick; a bullet between the eyes and he was gone. Jesse could vividly picture the kid’s smile, bright with optimism that had yet to be dulled by the dark atmosphere of Blackwatch. At least now they wouldn’t get the chance. It didn’t alleviate the sting in the slightest.

Ritayik and Trach had fared better, at least for a while. Both had years of experience and had been part of Blackwatch since it’s early stages. Trach had a tendency to treat each mission as if it would be her last, seeking benediction and talking to her loved ones as if this time would be the last. Unfortunately she was right this time. She managed to pick off nearly a dozen of their attackers before a shot caught her in the leg. It had been over quickly after that.

Ritayik had lasted the longest of the three. As their resident bomb expert he was never without some sort of explosive device at hand, and anyone lucky enough to get close was forced to deal with the heavy shotgun he carried. Later McCree would credit him with taking out most of their attackers. Ritayik probably would have made it out alright if one of the Talon agents hadn’t managed a lucky shot as he’d been about to toss another grenade. It had dropped to his feet and gone off. Jesse didn’t think he’d ever forget the sound of him screaming. Gritting his teeth, he’d put a bullet into the man’s brain himself. Jesse couldn’t save him, but he could at least put Ritayik out of his misery.

Now it was him against a half-dozen remaining Talon agents. Not the worst odds, but as he loaded the last six rounds with his speedloader he admitted it was going to be close. He’d radioed in for help when the shit hit the fan, but they’d come in on foot and their transport was a good forty-five minutes out. Even if they’d left immediately, they wouldn’t get here in time to help him if there were more men hiding nearby. He had to make this count.

Well, as he’d joked to Reyes on more than one occasion, it’s High Noon somewhere in the world.

He took a moment to steady himself and find his center. Deadeye was about concentration and blocking distractions, achieving a sort of hyper-awareness as he lined up his shots. Those few precious seconds could be the difference between life and death, but if he pulled it off he had a chance to walk out of here alive. 

Not if, _when_. He _would_ pull it off.

Time slowed as he swung out from behind cover. Gun held low at his hip and his other hand hovering above the hammer, he took in the positions of the six men stalking towards him. They took aim at him as he used his short window of time to calculate his shots. He had the last man lined up and opened fire before any of them could pull the trigger.

It all went horribly wrong.

The shots were lined up perfectly. On any other day he would have hit all six targets dead center and walked away pretty as you please. It wasn’t his eye or his arm that had failed. It was his weapon. The first four shots went off without a hitch, but everything ground to a halt when the hammer came down for the fifth.

The gun exploded and took his hand with it in a cloud of red mist. The force of it knocked him backwards to land in a heap on the floor. It took his mind a few seconds to catch up before the pain hit, sharp and sickening as he clawed at what was left of his forearm. What he saw didn’t even resemble an arm anymore. It was just strips of meat dangling from the bone, like a chicken leg that had been gnawed on by a hound. He had to look away before he lost the contents of his stomach. Jesse couldn’t tell if the lightheadedness was because of the blood rushing from his ruined arm or the heaving breaths he was taking. 

A pair of boots in his peripheral vision reminded him that he hadn’t landed those last two shots. His men were dead, his weapon was scrap, and he was bleeding out fast. Normally one for optimism, McCree had to admit that he wasn’t going to make it out of this one. He had been set up from the start. Someone with access to his gear had to have done something to his weapon. There was no way for it to fail that spectacularly on its own. It was sabotage, plain and simple. _Son of a bitch. Jack was right…_

One of the Talon men kicked him onto his back, gun aimed at his face. Jesse wasn’t about to let them have the last laugh, even if his grin looked more like a grimace. “Go ahead…you bastard. Take...your best shot.” 

The sound of the shot he expected, but not the sight of the man keeling over, half of his face gone. The other Talon agent shouted and turned but didn’t get very far before he met a similar fate. McCree could hear a familiar voice shouting his name, sounding equal parts worried and pissed off. He would have loved to have seen the look on Gabriel’s face, but everything went black.

_Jack was right._

\-----------------------------------------------------

He woke up to a sharp slap to the face. It startled him badly and the full-body jerk aggravated his arm, but it did the job and brought him back to consciousness. Everything felt foggy and out of focus, a sign of heavy blood loss he was familiar with. Gabriel’s stern visage looming above him was also familiar. The faint worry in the man’s eyes was new though. “Don’t fall asleep on me again. Stay awake until we get back to base, _comprende?_ You can sleep all you want after that mess has been patched up.” 

Jesse didn’t have to ask what _that mess_ referred to. He’d seen how ugly it was and knew there wasn’t much they could do to save it. It looked like he’d have to learn to shoot with his other hand. Once he got a new gun, that was. _My gun!_

He lunged upright so fast that his forehead almost connected with Gabriel’s nose. The commander’s mouth opened to bark out some sort of order when McCree grabbed onto the front of his tac vest and shook him. “We were set up! They had a guy on the inside!”

“What the fuck are you talking about, McCree?”

He knew he looked wild, his clothes streaked with his own blood and his eyes feverish. But he had to make Reyes understand. “Those bastards knew we were comin’. They knew and they waited for us! And someone tampered with my gun-”

“Calm down-”

 _“My fuckin’ gun blew up in my hand! Don’t you tell me to calm down!”_

The outburst left him dizzy but he seemed to have gotten his point across. Reyes was staring at him and Mcree could almost see the gears turning in his head. The scowl that darkened Reyes’ features was probably the most comforting thing he’d seen in a long time.

\-----------------------------------------------------

Everything was a bit hazy after that. He remembered landing, remembered the Blackwatch doc with the odd last name offering quiet reassurance as he worked to stem the flow of blood. Angela arrived at some point, and he thought he heard Jack somewhere. It was all a jumbled mess of sights and sounds.

The next time he woke fully he was in one of the clean white rooms of Angela’s medical wing. He’d been stripped of his ruined uniform and bundled into a pale blue hospital gown. McCree turned his head to the right, a shock of blue catching his attention. Strike-Commander Jack Morrison, coat and all, was asleep in the hard plastic visitors chair next to his bed.

It was probably the first time he’d seen the man so still since tensions had spiked between him and Reyes. Even in his sleep Jack looked far from relaxed. The man looked exhausted and he hated to wake him, but Jesse needed to catch up. Still, he winced as his croaky voice woke Jack up. The commander looked even more worn out now that he was up and moving.

“Jesse, you’re awake! How are you feeling?”

McCree did a quick mental assessment and grimaced, “Like I got hit by a truck. How long was I out?” He noticed his arm didn’t hurt much, likely due to whatever painkillers he was on, but he avoided looking at it for now.

“A few days. You were...in really rough shape when they brought you in. Do you remember what happened?” Jack’s expression was serious, but his tone was cautious. Jesse suspected that Jack wouldn’t push him on it if he didn’t want to talk. It hit him, not for the first time, just how different Jack and Reyes were as leaders. Reyes was all tough love, pushing his men harder and harder to improve themselves, while Jack did his best to connect with his men on a personal level and help them find their place among the team. Reyes would have pushed him for answers as soon as he was conscious enough to form words. 

“You were right. It was bogus from the start. We were set up.”

\-----------------------------------------------------

He’d been in the medical wing about two weeks. While he’d seen other friends come and go, Reyes had yet to make an appearance. Oh, he’d heard the man outside once, engaged in one hell of a row with Morrison. They argued about the mission; Jack berating Reyes for sending men out there in the first place, while Reyes fired back that there hadn’t been enough proof to call off the mission. It went about in circles, both calling out their suspicions on the other’s leadership capabilities and trying to lay blame. 

Honestly, Jesse wasn’t sure what else he expected. They scarcely saw eye-to-eye to begin with and it had only gotten worse when Reyes had called things off between them. Jesse thought back to how Jack had warned him to be careful, how he said he’d tried to speak to Reyes and been shot down. 

_Reyes wouldn’t be so petty to let his feelings for Jack dictate the mission, would he?_ Once he let that thought in it took root and wouldn’t go away. It festered like an open wound, poisoning his opinion of Gabriel Reyes and the inner workings of Blackwatch as a whole. He thought of the secrecy and how Reyes forbade his men from talking to Morrison about any of their mission details. Jesse used to think it was to give Jack plausible deniability in case it all went public, but now he wasn’t so sure. Jesse couldn’t stay here if Reyes really was putting his men’s lives at risk just to spite Morrison. If things continued on like this it would only lead to disaster. 

A week later, Jesse McCree quietly slipped out of Overwatch headquarters. 

Two months after that, Gabriel Reyes disappeared.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, feel free to discuss this or any of my other fics with me at visor76.tumblr.com!


End file.
